


Home is...

by AegwynnMagna



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Liontrust Secret Santa 2020, M/M, warning: extremely sappy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:46:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AegwynnMagna/pseuds/AegwynnMagna
Summary: khadgar working on spells and bringing lothar christmas sweets that he summoned.
Relationships: Khadgar/Anduin Lothar
Kudos: 11
Collections: Liontrust 2020 Secret Santa





	Home is...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [UnderscoreMax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderscoreMax/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Birthday Magic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15238323) by [Valisandre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valisandre/pseuds/Valisandre). 



> happy... winter feast..and.. happy.. new year?? LOL. This is so very late but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless. Have some fluffy warm vibes now that winter has settled in and we're all combatting seasonal depression

It was almost Winter Veil and Khadgar was freaking out.

He had poured through almost every book in the Stormwind library and was this close to just teleporting, either to Dalaran or Karazhan to continue his search there. He could not fail. He would not fail.

But none of the books so far had been very useful. Sure, he had learned new, _interesting_ spells, like how to make some delicious buns - he still could feel some stickiness on his fingertips despite how often he had licked them. He had also learned how to make some plain bread which he figured would help on long journeys. There was one spell that supposedly made soup but whatever Khadgar had summoned could not be, even kindly, called soup and he had discarded it without even trying it.

But nothing _truly_ **useful** to him right now. And Khadgar was _freaking. Out._

He had - he checked with a quick time stamp spell, which was unneccessary since the clock was right in front of him, ticking away the hours on the wall since he had dragged himself to the library early this morning with a mission - two hours before the feast.

And he didn't have any gift.

Correction: he had gifts. He had plenty of gifts. Taria, that had been easy: he'd gone into Weller's arsenal and asked for the most gracious, discreet and lethal weapon they had and Light had they delivered. Khadgar was almost afraid of handling the delicately chiseled dagger even in its sheath. The children, he had had to pull a few strings, but he had managed to secure a wooden sword for Adariall and several plushies for her to swing it at ; as for Varian, a ful set of mail-looking leather armor, to protect him from Adariall's hits, and his very own replica of Lothar's shield to go with the sword that he knew Lothar was gifting him. Khadgar was pleased - no, he was _delighted_ with the gifts he had found. He had even found enough tiny statues of Lothar - ugly looking things, but he figured he could support the artist just for their absolutely incredible nerve of daring to sell such ugly-looking figurines of their leader - that he intended to give the guards and soldiers he knew best. He was doing _great_. Except…

He didn't know what to give Lothar.

He thought, stupidly, that he would be the easiest. Afterall, Lothar wasn't a very complicated man. Actually, he was quite simple. He had few activities that truly enthralled him: hunting, training with his garrison, and reading those Light-forsaken romance novels… Khadgar still didn't understand what he thought was so mesmerizing about them. To Khadgar, they were embarrassing wastes of time and he would much rather read an arcane theory tome. But he had realized at around age three that he wasn't the norm. Actually, now he thought about it, the intent look Lothar got, biting his lip and tapping his fingers in a non-rhythm against the book's spine, as he read, was kind of… cute. Endearing. Absolutely and terrifyingly bewitching.

Uh. Right. A gift. Khadgar needed to find a gift. After he had exhausted each of his initial ideas, realizing how unauthentic and insincere they all would feel, he thought he had found the best idea: he would give him food. Lothar _loved_ food. As a warrior, he had had to spend enough time on rations and carefully selected mushrooms to truly appreciate good food. But Khadgar was no cook - besides, he didn't think a meal would quite cut it. He needed something else, something more. Something that meant something. Something he could pour his soul into - for lack of his heart. So he'd turned to summoned food. Stormwind's library had a few books on the matter, but nothing yet had been a winner in Khadgar's mind. He was starting to doubt if it was even a good idea in the first place. Culdn't he just buy him an excessively expensive bottle of wine and be done with it?

With a loud groan, he let his forehead fall against the table. He let out a tiny " _ouch_ " as the impact was way more brutal than he expected.

"Are you," he heard, "you know… Okay?"

He raised his head towards the human now standing in front of him and he recognized Lothar with a second of delay as his eyes struggled to focus.

"Oh!" he exclaimed and scrambled to his feet. Without realizing, he had almost saluted. Lothar chortled and raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Um," Khadgar stuttered, "y-yeah, I'm fine."

Lothar settled his hip against the table and cast a semi-interested glance on the opened books.

"What are you working on?"

"Um," he faltered. He couldn't actually _admit_ that he had been struggling all day to find him a suitable gift, especially considering the nature of the gift. Right? "Ssssss...spells. Magic spells." He winced. Luckily, Lothar wasn't looking at him but rather at a specific volume. He turned the book around so the writing was right side up and his eyebrows did a little dance which Khadgar definitely did not find adorable.

"Is this…" Lothar licked his lips and Khadgar's heart constricted and expanded at the same time and he almost choked out loud. "A recipe book?"

Khadgar's brain was a blank. It seemed it had decided to up and leave the second he had realized Lothar was here and he left Khadgar all alone to deal with the situation. What a coward.

"Um," and didn't he use to have more vocabulary? He seemed to remember a time he could _talk_ to the man without feeling like his tongue was too big for his damn mouth. Right. That was before…

Before Khadgar realized that Lothar was very, very attractive. And smart. And kind. And nice. And all of the above and so much more, and he was currently looking at him, expecting an answer, and Khadgar really needed to get his mind straight and focus.

"Yes," he said, trying to muster enough confidence to appear genuine. "I'm looking to… expand. My skills. The cooks are… teaching me. So I can be more useful. On missions."

Lothar's eyebrows, he was pretty sure - and he believed, in all humility, that he could be trusted on this, given the sheer amount of time he spent staring at the man these days - had never reached such heights. They were greeting his hairline and making friends with the wrinkles on his forehead. They were nice wrinkles, and Khadgar had never once before thought wrinkles could look nice but on Lothar they worked and made him look more distinguished. Overall, he looked less tired and drunk as he used to when they'd met. Now, Khadgar looked in the mirror and couldn't recognize himself. And he looked at Lothar and could hardly recognize him either as the same man he had to break out of the barracks because he'd gotten so stupidly drunk as to accuse the Guardian - _to his face_ \- of being anything but sane and reasonable. This Lothar had grown and matured - and sobered. He couldn't offer a bottle of rum… could he?

He winced, and realized his mistake. Suspicion wrote itself clear as day on Lothar's face but he still nodded and turned the book back around so it faced Khadgar.

"Alright," he said, "catch you later then?"

Khadgar nodded and watched him leave. A thought came and went through his mind: why did Lothar even swing by the library? There was no way it had been on his way. But the thought flew out the window before he could give it any serious consideration. Tonight was the Winter Veil banquet, and after that was the exchange of gifts between members of the royal family and close friends. He had been invited, of course. And he needed to find a gift for Lothar.

He took a deep breath and delved back into the books. Surely something in there would be of use without him having to actually hop back to Dalaran - nevermind the fact he could swing by their library without any of the mages even being aware of his presence…

When he finally joined the banquet, he knew what he must have looked like: tired, frazzled, and probably a little haggard. It was fine. It was how he looked _most_ of the time. If someone hadn't told him yet he looked like shit, he was probably still asleep and dreaming. Sure thing, the minute he entered the dining hall, Karos spotted him and came to slap him on the shoulder - a gesture he had been _told_ was meant as friendly and brotherly, even, though he still wasn't convinced this wasn't an elaborate prank played on him so the soldiers could continue assaulting him.

The dining hall was full of people: nobles, priests, merchants, peasants from Elwynn, and varying species, gnomes and dwarves and elves, all mingling and laughing. For just this one night, they could all pretend as if their world wasn't - literally, in some parts - on fire. As much as Khadgar wanted to enjoy the night and respected the need everyone had to celebrate, it still twisted uncomfortably in his stomach. How he wished the Alliance and Horde could find some middle ground to be able to settle their differences... 

"You look like shit," Karos stated, obviously already very drunk - which Khadgar couldn't blame him for. Actually, he was in dire need of a drink himself. He would gladly accept the offered tankard of beer too if he knew he didn't have spells to perform. He smiled at Karos and left him with some trusted friends before he made his foray into the crowd. Some people actually recognized him, which always came as much of a surprise as the very first time. He threw smiles he intended as warm and polite rather than strained and knew he was failing. Eventually he found his way to the thrones which were dispairingly empty. He felt his shoulders fall as he thought about how he would have to look through the crowds to search for Lothar when a heavy and warm hand settled on his shoulder.

Despite himself, he started and a spell was on his lips before he had glanced at the person grabbing him. Bright blue eyes, wide and a little scared. Chapped lips, red and slightly stained by the dark wine. A beard, dark and neatly brushed and braided. His heartbeat mmediately slowed and his body relaxed. Unfortunately, Lothar felt it, as his hand was still on his shoulder. Khadgar glowered - he didn't _need_ Lothar to know that he trusted him this much. The man was cocky enough as it was.

"Having fun?" Lothar asked, more out of habit than actual wondering.

"I just got here."

Lothar rolled his eyes. The party was very much on its way already. The guests had started arriving hours ago. The royal family had made its appearance over an hour ago. And Khadgar had still been buried under books in the library…

"Learn how to change water into wine?" Lothar asked, which gave Khadgar pause.

He glanced inside Lothar's cup and noticed the liquid was much clearer than expected.

"Taria cut you off?" he smirked.

"I cut myself off," Lothar sighed. "I need to stay clear minded enough to deal with all the politics tonight."

Khadgar felt his heart drop to his feet, bypassing his stomach entirely. He thought maybe tonight they would be free of politics. Maybe tonight, even he could pretend as if the world wasn't on fire… But of course, that was just wishful thinking. He glanced around the room, at the numerous groups that had seemingly naturally formed and people exchanging pleasantries around a glass of sparkle and a bite of _amuse-bouche_. Suddenly he could see it clearly: the different cultures, the species, the political affiliation, the alliances forming themselves right here in this room. Every single word was weighted and thought for long seconds that stretched conversations uncomfortably. The warm and safe feeling that first met him at the door was an illusion. It was all fake. Nobody here trusted anyone else any more than they would trust an orc if directly faced with one. But Khadgar knew for a fact how easy it was to trust an Orc… only for them to stab you in the back when you least expected.

He shook his head clear of the bitter memories and focused back on the man right beside him, closer than before. His breath caught in his throat as he realized how close, exactly, Lothar had gotten to him. He could almost smell him but for the heady mix of the different perfumes that mixed in the room right now: intoxicating, dizzying. He had only been here ten or so minutes and already wished to leave. But he needed to play his part; pay his respects to those who would only earn it afterwards; support Lothar however way he could.

Suddenly, a thought struck him.

"There is a spell," he mused and Lothar turned to him, eyebrow raised and a smile already pulling at his lips. "Watch and weep."

The words felt foreign on his tongue: it wasn't an Elvish spell but something much coarser, less conventional, but so much more fun. The energy gathered in his hand, invisible but to the most trained eyes, and was released quickly. It flew throughout the room, hitting each torchhead in succession: each flame changed colors quickly, filling the room with flickering colorful lights. Conversations stuttered and stopped and the dining hall was filled with the _ohs_ and _ahs_ of the guests. For a second, all minds were cleared of afterthoughts and rapid calculating - _really_ free, just for a second. Polite clapping resounded but Khadgar ignored it. He looked at Lothar with a grin ready on his face but it faltered as he crossed Lothar's gaze: it was focused, dark and unreadable. Eventually, Lothar scoffed and silently clapped in mock admiration.

"Not bad," he remarked.

Khadgar resisted sticking his tongue. It was childish, and hardly appropriate behavior at such an event. Still, he tried to infuse his glare with the same energy. Lothar laughed, loud and clear and Khadgar certainly did not feel his heart do somersaults through his chest, because that would be ridiculous.

"Thank you," Lothar told him, too earnestly.

Khadgar gaped and couldn't come up with anything to say. So he stayed silent. Lothar clapped him on the shoulder, gently: almost brushing, actually. His fingers lingered just a second on his shoulder, sending electrified shivers down his spine. Then, Lothar turned away and went to meet more guests.

The end of the night found Khadgar on the balcony, trying to get some air. But the winter was much cooler in Stormwind than in Dalaran and he found himself missing the snow days when the mages would allow the younger initiates to run out and play for a couple of hours. They knew they wouldn't be able to get them to focus on arcane anyway. Besides, some of Khadgar's most effective spells had been practiced during snowball fights. He smiled as he recalled those fond memories, before the masters noticed his unique mastery of the arcane and decided to choose him as Guardian novitiate, isolating him.

He heard someone clear their throat behind him and knew it was Lothar. He didn't bother turning around, merely moving his head to beckon him closer. Lothar leaned forwards against the railing, gazing out towards the city. The people were out in the streets celebrating. They could hear their cheers climbing up all the way up to the Keep. It made Khadgar feel alive: he felt he knew who he was protecting on nights like this. The stars shone and the moon was but a sliver. If he focused, he could hear the sea. The air was crisp and cold and filled his lungs mercifully. He smiled, content.

"Did you enjoy yourself?"

Khadgar snorted.

"No," he didn't bother lying. "But it wasn't too bad."

It had been, at one point: a young, dashing elf had wanted to get a little too close to him - for whatever reason, because he was a twenty year-old stuck in an old man's body, and he was pretty sure Humans must have looked repulsive to Elves, but then what did he know, maybe they were into that - but he had firmly and perhaps a little rudely rejected him. He just hoped he hadn't been too important a political figure. They could use all the support they could get these days and he would hate to be the reason they weren't getting it. But then again, if standing some man's hot breath against his neck and annoying and frankly degrading propositions was the way they would get his support, Khadgar did not want anything to do with it. He purposefully let the bad memory fly away with a sudden gust of wind.

Lothar shuddered and stepped closer to him, bringing their sides flush together. Khadgar felt like he was melting. He hoped his face wasn't too red: he hoped it could be blamed on the cold, rather than the sweltering feeling in his stomach.

"You don't have to come back in. It's almost over anyway. See you in the royal quarters?" he asked, as if there was any doubt he would be there.

First of all, no one ignored a royal invitation, whoever they were - and secondly, how could he deny Lothar, when he stood so close, and looked at him with eyes so open and honest, as if he actually expected him to say "sorry, but I'm spent, I'll see you tomorrow"? Totally unrealistic.

"Of course," he said, biting a smile, too sweet, too gentle - too soon. He looked away to hide how his cheeks blushed. "I don't want to miss Adariall's and Varian's face when they see their gifts." That was, if the children hadn't fallen asleep already. Winter Veil was one of the rare nights they were allowed to stay up - but, paradoxically, usually one of the nights they fell asleep earliest.

"Great," Lothar said, and his voice was soft enough that Khadgar turned to look at him - and regretted it immediately. Lothar's eyes sparkled, and his nose was wrinkled because his mouth was smiling with just the hint of teeth, and surely it wasn't _normal_ that the sight of one person could make Khadgar's insides feel all gooey. He needed to consult, needed to get a healer to look at him, maybe send a couple of prayers just to make sure. Was Lothar getting closer? Or was he actually about to pass out?

He didn't get to find out because suddenly a voice, unfortunately familiar, bellowed:

"Anduin Lothar!" The quiet of the balcony was broken, shattered, destroyed, trampled…

"Oh Light," Lothar cursed under his breath, low enough the Elf - the very one who had bothered Khadgar earlier - did not hear but Khadgar did. "You should flee now, I wouldn't blame you. This one is…"

"Oh," Khadgar gritted out, already feeling a different sort of heat filling his lungs. "We've met."

He squared his shoulders as the Elf got closer, an insipid smile on his face even as his eyes betrayed he had recognized Khadgar and only now realized that he was a close friend of the regent.

"Lothar," he greeted as if they had been friends for years and Khadgar had to hold himself back from baring his teeth, "I've been meaning to catch you because…"

Khadgar did not much care for politics - even less so when they were spoken by someone he very much would like to punch. He didn't resort to violence very often, but sometimes situations called for it. Lothar seemed to sense his barely bridled anger because he put his hand on his shoulder - again, and oh how sweet that touch was - and squeezed gently, just enough to reassure him but not enough to hurt. The Elf's eyes narrowed in on the touch at once and he actually went cross-eyed which _was_ , admittedly, pretty funny. Khadgar raised his chin and stared straight at him, daring him to say something… anything.

"Well," was what he came out with, "I guess it can wait." He smiled, a bit strained, like it pained him to but it was the polite thing to do. "I'll bring it up at the next council."

Wait - _what_. This guy was on the Light forsaken council? Khadgar blinked and tried his best not to let his surprise show. The Elf bowed very low and left, leaving a gaping silence until Lothar snorted and took his hand off Khadgar's shoulder - he didn't miss the warmth but he wouldn't have minded a few seconds more…

"What a prick," Lothar scoffed. "Anyway, that showed me that it's way past time we send everyone away. If I'm getting cornered on balconies when trying to have a private moment, then this isn't a WInterveil fest anymore - it's a gladiator arena."

Khadgar blinked. Private moment? What could Lothar mean- Surely not… Lothar noticed his stunned silence and stared at him with worry.

"Is everything alright? You've not had too much to drink, have you?"

Khadgar slowly shook his head. "No, I'm…" Actually, maybe he would do better to lie: he did feel dizzy and nauseous in a way alcohol usually made him feel, even though he had not had a drop throughout the evening. "This guy propositioned me," he blurted out.

Lothar blinked. Then his face turned very red, very quickly. His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched and- oh, he was pissed.

"It's alright," Khadgar said quickly, "I turned him down and he stepped away immediately, he wasn't actually rude or anything, just…"

"Just what?" Lothar seethed. "This isn't a goddamn social gathering-" Khadgar didn't bother pointing out that it was, actually, just that. "-and we're not all here to get cozy and-"

Khadgar laid a hand on Lothar's arm which stopped him short. He was still very much flushed, crimson blotches on his cheek and neck making him seem paler than ever in the starlight. He took a deep breath and huffed but he didn't start ranting again. Khadgar waited a few seconds anyway before he patted his arm a couple of times.

"Thank you," he said, quietly.

Lothar deflated at once. His gaze turned gentle and his mouth twisted and- no. Khadgar could not deal with this right now. He cleared his throat gently and turned away, ready to head back inside.

"I'll see you later for the exchange of gifts?" he asked, not waiting for an answer.

The royal chambers were quiet: as he had suspected, the children had fallen asleep. The maid informed him that they had crashed on the couches and that she had taken the liberty to put them in bed. He thanked her and told her he could handle it from here. Taria and Lothar and their friends would arrive soon and he needed everything to be ready. He lit a fire first before getting to work.

When Taria arrived, he was sitting on the couch, deceptively casual. They exchanged a few words, mostly about the children. The queen looked tired but content: it had been a good night, overall. Still, he could imagine how bittersweet it must feel.

Lothar arrived just moments later looking more spent than he expected. He mumbled his greetings and flopped down on the couch. Khadgar frowned. He wanted desperately to ask him to open up and share his worries but also knew tonight was not the time.

Their friends filed in, all talking in quiet tones, so far removed from the jovial and loud voices that had echoed in the dining hall. As everyone embraced and wished each other a merry Winter Veil, Khadgar sat back and enjoyed the sight. It felt as if they were a normal family, joined together by blood and love and hardship. Taria came to sit by him and handed him his gift: it was a beautifully bound book, and he recognized the text as soon as he opened it. It was Aegwynn's gest, as copied by the mages at Dalaran since he had sent them the most complete manuscript he could find in Karazhan. It was a work of art and he appreciated it immensely. He knew Taria must have been in contact with the mages from Dalaran in order to gift him this and it made it all the more valuable. He thanked her warmly and was surprised when she pulled him in for a hug. Then, he handed her his gift. her face lit up dangerously when she saw the dagger and he chuckled as she examined the blade closely. She pulled him into another hug and he laughed as he narrowly escaped getting stabbed.

He watched as Lothar was handed gifts from his friends and soldiers. His smile, although genuine, never quite seemed to reach his eyes.

When all the guests had left and it was only Khadgar left with Taria and Lothar, he figured it was time for the rest of his surprise. He cleared his throat, effectively catching the siblings' attention.

"Would you care for something hot to drink?" he asked quietly.

They both frowned and looked so similar despite their differences that Khadgar had to bite back a smile. They exchanged a suspicious smile before agreeing.

Khadgar breathed in and out before speaking the spell. If he had set up correctly - if he had recalled the spell accurately - if he had read the book properly…

Three cups appeared on the table: innocuously empty. Khadgar allowed himself a smile as Taria and Lothar stared in surprise. Then, the sound like water flowing came into the room, making them both crane their necks and look around only to see nothing. The cups starting filling from the bottom and the strong aroma of chocolate and spices filled the room. Taria and Lothar stilled and did not move until the spell was over and each cup was filled to the brim with steaming hot chocolate. Khadgar sat there grinning from ear to ear: they hadn't even seen half of what he had found in the books. Some of it he wanted to keep for when he and Lothar would be alone, but this he thought might make Taria happy too…

Except they didn't look happy. Instead, tears filled their eyes and while Lothar turned to hide his emotion, Taria started openly weeping. Khadgar did not know what to do. Taria sniffled before speaking:

"Thank you," she managed to say. She reached for the cup and Khadgar wanted to warn her that it might be hot, but she instinctively grabbed it by the rim and blew on the liquid before tentatively bringing it to her lips. She took a sip and her eyes slid shut as her shoulders relaxed.

Khadgar waited anxiously. Taria opened her eyes and held the cup close to her chest. Though her eyes were red and puffy, she looked calmer now and when she smiled, it was genuine.

"Truly, thank you. Sorry my emotions overwhelmed me. But, you need to understand," she glanced at Lothar, who was still looking away, before continuing, "we thought we'd never get to drink this again. You see, Medivh used to summon it, on nights we pretended to go camping in the Keep's garden. We were all so young then… He never again summoned it when he came back from his coma. I think we had all grown out of it. But tonight… It just brought back all those memories, those wonderful, fond memories. And I cannot thank you enough for that."

Khadgar felt his own eyes start watering and his throat clenching. He nodded instead of trying to speak. Taria sipped at the chocolate again before she cleared her throat and stood up.

"Well. It's been a long night. I better go check on the children and then head to bed," she announced. "Good night."

Khadgar bid her good night, somehow finding his voice again. Lothar however stayed silent. As each second passed, Khadgar felt his anxiety rising. He worried he had crossed a boundary without realizing it had been there and now he didn't know how to reach over the divide there seemed to be between him and Lothar. He wanted to stand and go sit by his side, brush his hands up and down his back, kiss his tear-stained cheeks… he couldn't but he wanted to. He wished there was a way to convey that without risking worsening the situation.

"Lothar," he started, finally breaking the quiet.

"Wait," Lothar interrupted him. "Just a second," he added, as he stood up and left, without even looking in his direction.

Khadgar felt his heart break. He knew it, he never should have gone looking through those books. It had been an innocent enough endeavour: who didn't like food, especially hot chocolate, on a winter veil night? Now, he realized how pitiful a gift it was, especially since it had brought back memories of dead friends…

Lothar came back, which was the first surprise. The second was that he was holding a tiny box, tightly wrapped. He settled on the couch next to Khadgar, which was almost as surprising, and handed him the gift. Khadgar accepted it without a word. He didn't know whether to open it. it felt now as if he didn't deserve it.

Lothar sighed. Khadgar cloed his eyes and braced himself.

"I," Lothar tried but stuttered. "Damn it," he mumbled. "I don't know what to say. Or rather… I don't know how to say it. Thank you, I guess would be a good start. But it seems so… insufficient."

Khadgar frowned and slowly opened his eyes again. He looked at Lothar: he was wringing his hands, gaze locked on them, shoulders hunched, a serious and intent look on his face. 

"The past year has been.. hard. Yeah."

Khadgar wanted to scoff: understatement of the year, but he didn't want to stop Lothar. He swallowed and tentatively held out his hand so he could cover Lothar's own. They stilled and turned so they could grab Khadgar's hand tightly. Khadgar squeezed back as firmly.

"And I couldn't have done it without you. All this, the mingling and dealing with people and politics and diplomacy, I was never meant to do this. I thought I wouldn't be able to do it. But you trusted me, when you handed me Llane's sword on his funeral…" 

Lothar's voice became wet and strained and Khadgar held his hands even tighter. 

"And you're always there. I know that whenever I feel like giving up, I can just swing by the library and find you here and you'll always have something interesting to share, even when it's such complex arcane theory I don't understand a word of it or… Cooking recipes," he whispered and laughed softly. 

He stared at the cup of hot cocoa, still steaming. The aroma still hung in the air, sweet and warm; it felt like a hug.

"And I don't know how to thank you. So… this isn't a thank you. It's a promise," Lothar said, suddenly shifting so he could face Khadgar and suddenly he was staring straight into Khadgar's eyes and Khadgar could not look away. "That I'm here for you whenever you need. And if you never need me… then that's fine. But if you do… I'm here. And always will be."

Khadgar opened and closed his mouth but not a sound came out.

"Open it," Lothar enjoined him.

Giving in, Khadgar carefully unwrapped his present. It was a rectangular box, small and long, all black and sharp angles. There was nothing written or drawn on it. Khadgar stared at it quizzically before opening it. Inside were a pair of spectacles: round, silver rimmed, simple and elegant. For a few seconds, Khadgar simply stared, not comprehending. He even opened his mouth to ask what exactly it meant when it hit him.

For several months now, he had had trouble reading. Nothing drastic at first. He noticed eye strain and headaches and eventually he needed to hold the book further and further away to distinguish the letters and it got harder when the light was dim. Discreetly - or so he thought - he had started researching spells to fix his vision, but he had found nothing. Shame or embarrassment or fear - whatever it was, had stopped him from asking for glasses. He had thought no one had noticed - after all, no one really came into the library except for himself. And Lothar. Lothar was always there, it seemed: in the morning after a long night, to drag him to breakfast. In the evening, to remind him of dinner. And during the day too, frequent but welcome interruptions during which Khadgar could tell him all his latest research - often finding the fatal flaw which prevented him from going further by the simple fact of having to tell it. And he had noticed Khadgar's failing eyesight.

Lothar was tense next to him. As the silence stretched on, he started rambling.

"Obviously you need to get your eyes tested - and then, they'll make the lenses. There's supposed to be lenses, these aren't just - fashion accessories though I guess, if you don't like them, which, I mean, fair, you can get others, I made sure, I asked them if you could - because I didn't know if you - well, you don't like them that's fine, but see, I noticed and…"

"Lothar," Khadgar finally found his voice. Lothar fell silent immediately, looking at him expectantly. "Thank you. They're perfect. I love them."

That was the closest he could get to what he truly meant but he hoped it was sufficient.

"Oh," Lothar breathed out. All the tension left him at once and he started chuckling. "Oh, well, I'm glad."

He relaxed into the couch and let his eyes close half-way. The fire danced on his face, bringing out the imperfections of his skin and making him look all the more perfect to Khadgar's eyes. He smiled.

Khadgar put the box onto the table and sighed.

"Well, my own gift seems rather lackluster suddenly," he said, with a joking tone which fell flat.

"The cocoa?" Lothar asked.

"Yes, well. It's part of it."

That seemed to pique Lothar's interest as he looked suddenly much more awake. Khadgar groaned.

"Don't look so excited."

"What? Of course I'm excited. I'm getting a gift?"

Khadgar laughed. "You're worse than a child. No - a dog."

Without missing a beat, Lothar stuck his tongue out and proceeded to breathe heavily through his mouth while goign cross-eyed. Khadgar pushed his face away and yelped as Lothar licked his palm.

"That's disgusting," he laughed.

Lothar's eyes were sparkling and Khadgar had already forgiven him. He focused so he could summon the other part of Lothar's gift. The spells were easy enough, but Khadgar had wanted to go further and had spent about an hour longer in the library after finding them so as to combine them.

"Alright," he said, "are you ready?"

Lothar nodded. Khadgar shifted so he was more comfortable and then started the spell. He realized halfway through his mistake. So excited had he been at having found the right spells that he hadn't checked the fine print. The air around them actually shook with the energy suddenly being displaced. A mountain of sweets appeared on the table and an avalanche of biscuits fell at their feet. The smell filled the small sitting room, mixing with that of the hot cocoa and the crakcling fire. It smelled like what childhood should be like: magical, and sweet, and overly sugary. It felt divine. But the tower of snacks stood taller than them both standing up. They gaped at the sudden apparition before glancing at each other. 

As soon as their eyes crossed, they dissolved into uncontrollable laughter. Khadgar felt the last of his uneasiness slip away in the darkness. He laughed so hard that his stomach hurt and he slumped on the couch, half lying down against the comfy cushions. Lothar lay next to him and when he turned his face, their noses touched. Their breaths mingled - some part of Khadgar's brain, not high on the sugary fumes alone, wondered whether it should be weird that he could smell Lothar's breath and he wasn't grossed out. Lothar smelled of wine and venison and honey and he wanted nothing more than to taste it.

So he did just that. Later that night, lying in bed, he'd wonder what possessed him to do such an insane thing: to just lean forward and cross the distance, place his quivering lips ontop of Lothar's chapped ones, to press his nose against his and just kiss him. But he wouldn't regret it.

Because Lothar kissed him back. Without a second of hesitation, Lothar pressed into the kiss, lips moving against his as if they'd been destined. His hand found its place on Khadgar's neck and his knee brushed against Khadgar's thigh and for a second, the world was perfectly balanced, and everything was perfect.

Then the wave came crashing down. Khadgar pulled away with a gasp and Lothar stared at him like he'd just been sapped by a rogue.

"I'm sor-"

Lothar surged forward and kissed him again. And then, when they had to part for air, he kissed him again. And again. And again. Khadgar thought he would never stop - and he wasn't even upset about it. What a way to go.

"What the-"

They pulled away lightning fast and jumped to their feet. Blood rushed to their heads and Khadgar felt dizzy and grabbed onto the nearest vertical object, which so happened to be Lothar's arm. He was leaning against Lothar after making out with him and Taria - Lothar's sister, the actual Queen of Stormwind - was staring at them. Actually, maybe it would have been more merciful to let him die of asphyxation, rather than embarrassment.

"I'm not even going to ask. But, Khadgar," Taria said, glaring at him, "I expect this all to be cleared tomorrow. Don't let Adariall or Varian see this."

Khadgar nodded numbly and Taria left, mumbling under her breath, something that sounded like "crazy mages" and "unbelievable" and "fucking finally." Khadgar was still leaning against Lothar but that was fine because Lothar put his arm around his waist and held him there. He felt the press of lips atop his head and he fought another wave of dizziness.

"Shall we go to bed?" Lothar asked.

"Um," Khadgar said, very intelligently.

"To sleep," Lothar stated firmly. "Though… can you… unsummon this?" he asked, gesturing at the mountain of biscuits on top of the table.

"Oh," Khadgar blinked, and straightened. "Not exactly. But I can teleport it."

Without a word and barely a gesture, the biscuits were all gone, except for two. Khadgar hoped that the mages at Dalaran were hungry… They grabbed the two remaining cookies and bit into them. The moan that escaped Lothar's throat was sinful - it should be made illegal - it should belong in a museum. Khadgar choked on his biscuit and Lothar had to slap his back, which was decidedly unsexy, but Khadgar was too damn happy to let it ruin his night.

"Right," he said after he was done almost dying, "to bed, then."

Before they left the room, they grabbed their cup of hot cocoa. Khadgar hesitated just a second outside Lothar's chambers, waiting for an invitation which came in Lothar taking his mug and setting it on the console table by the door before he grabbed his neck and pulled him in. He sealed his mouth with a kiss and they stumbled across his chambers towards the bedroom. They stopped in the threshold and gazed at each other, seeing in each other's eyes the same wonder they felt.

"I never thought…"

"Me neither."

I'll never get tired of kissing him, Khadgar thought. Eventually, however, his body's needs became overwhelming and Lothar had to hold him up from passing out on the floor. He was guided to the bed and he sunk into the pillows with a contented sigh. Lothar was gone but a few seconds and returned with their mugs. He handed his own to Khadgar and they toasted solemnly before taking their first sip. It tasted like winter and snuggles and crackling fire - like summer and salt and wind - like crunchy leaves and rain. It tasted like wine and venison and honey. It was delicious. Khadgar set his cup aside, careful not to spill any and turned his attention to Lothar.

He was staring into the cup with a faraway look in his eyes. The hot cocoa had clung to his moustache and Khadgar wiped it away. It made Lothar start and Khadgar smiled.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "If I'd known…"

"No," Lothar said forcefully. "Don't. You couldn't have known. And I'm not upset. I- I thought I'd never know happiness like this again."

Khadgar stared at him, dumbstruck. He thought it was a bit of an exaggeration but the words rang true, as much as they made his stomach twist hotly and his cheeks flush. Lothar blushed too and looked down.

"Sorry, I don't mean to be so sappy."

"It's fine," Khadgar said quietly.

"I mean it, though."

Lothar looked at him again and his gaze pierced through him, intense and honest. His lips were opened and glistening, his cheeks flushed, his beard - which had been so well kept earlier - now tangled and fluffy. Khadgar leaned in and kissed him softly and he felt him melt into him.

They slipped under the covers and instinctively curled around one another. It took a bit of shuffling but eventually they found a comfortable position. Khadgar was already drifting to sleep when Lothar started.

"Shit, the candles-"

Khadgar tightened his hold on him and mumbled unintelligibly. With a flick of his wrist, he extinguished all the candles. Lothar resettled and relaxed. Khadgar snuggled closer even and sighed happily. As he breathed in, he was filled with Lothar's scent: wine, and venison, and honey, and the slightest tinge of spicy hot cocoa. It felt safe and warm. It felt like home.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this fic and want more sweet mage shenanigans, I recommend Val's fic about Khadgar going out of his way to celebrate Lothar's birthday. Check it out: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/LT_week_2018/works/15238323


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